


Banner Year

by iamladyloki



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamladyloki/pseuds/iamladyloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year and a half after running away from everything she held dear, Emma found herself returning to Storybrooke. A lot was at stake - would her family forgive her for leaving so suddenly? Would her friends? But most importantly, would Killian?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been posted on tumblr since last Christmas, and I completely forgot about it until now. This was a gift for tumblr user cootiecatcher7 during CS Secret Santa. Let me know what you think!

There were very few things Emma was certain of. This was what she knew:

  1.      She was an orphan that was abandoned on the side of the road when she was a newborn.
  2.      She was finally out of the foster system.
  3.      She almost went to jail for someone else’s crime.
  4.      She didn’t have to be alone. There were people back in Storybrooke, Maine that missed her and would welcome her home.



When she drove past the sign that read, _Welcome to Storybrooke_ , it felt to Emma as if a weight was lifted off of her chest. She took a deep breath, repeating the mantra that had carried her from Phoenix, Arizona to Storybrooke: _You will be okay. You will be okay. There are people in Storybrooke that care about you. Storybrooke citizens will welcome you home. They won’t judge you._

It had been about a year and a half since she ran away from Storybrooke. She hadn’t wanted to leave, but she had needed to for her own state of mind. Her foster mother, Ingrid, had agreed for Emma to become an emancipated minor after she adopted Emma. She had been angry and heartbroken when Emma ran away, but Emma kept in regular contact with her to make sure Ingrid knew that she was okay. She was the only person that knew Emma was returning.

Emma sat in her car for several minutes, staring at the house she had lived in for a nearly a year before running away. She could see the Christmas tree glowing through the front window curtains and felt a little sorry that she hadn’t been there to help Ingrid put it up. Quite frankly, Emma wasn’t sure if running away had done any good or not. She felt worse than she did when she had left.

A curtain lifted and Ingrid stared out of the window. A smile lit up her face, and Emma returned it. _Okay, time to stop moping_ , Emma thought to herself. She put her coat on and then jogged from the car to the front porch. “Emma!” The joy and relief was evident on her face, making Emma feel even worse about running away.

“Ingrid,” Emma said, and it sounded like a sigh of relief. She hugged her _adoptive_ mother – she had to remind herself that she was no longer a foster child - tightly. “I missed you. I’m sorry I left.”

She could feel Ingrid shaking her head. “I’m just glad you came back. I’m glad you’re home.” They pulled apart from each other, and Ingrid looked Emma over.

Could Ingrid tell that she was different? Would she notice somehow? Would she be able to see the anxiety and guilt on her face? Emma readjusted her coat and shivered. “Should we go inside? It’s kind of freezing out here,” Emma laughed nervously.

Ingrid pursed her lips and looked at her watch. “Actually, let me grab my coat. There are some people who want to see you.”

It then occurred to Emma that it was Christmas Eve, which meant that the town Christmas party was happening in Town Hall. She had missed last year’s when she ran away a few weeks prior. Her heart picked up speed. Her friends would be there. But would _he_? She couldn’t decide whether she wanted him to be there or whether she wanted to avoid him as long as possible.

Ingrid emerged from the house wearing her coat and scarf. She held out a gloved hand and asked, “Ready?”

Emma paused only for a moment before taking Ingrid’s hand.

* * *

It was Ingrid who brought up Killian. “He’s back from the Navy. I think he will be glad to see you. A lot has happened since you last saw him.” 

Emma swallowed thickly but didn’t reply. She wasn’t sure what to say. He was a big part of why she had had to leave. She had fallen head over heels for him, and she had suspected that he felt similarly, but he had been dating his longtime girlfriend Milah and didn’t seem ready to end that relationship. Emma had understood, of course. It wasn’t her place to break up a couple just because of her foolish feelings.

They sat in the car for a minute while Emma debated whether she wanted to hightail it back to the house or go in. It was completely possible for Killian to be there, but she knew her good friends, whom she missed dearly, would definitely be there. She was really good at running away, but she wanted to be good at being a friend, too.

Without saying a word, Emma exited the car and stalked inside before she could change her mind. After depositing her coat at the coat rack, Emma slowly walked into the big room. She felt as though everyone was staring at her, but really only a few people took notice of her. She scanned the room for her friends.

Naturally, Killian was the first person that caught her attention.

Emma exhaled sharply when she saw him. He was handsomer than she remembered, or perhaps aging simply suited him well. She’d heard word from Ingrid that Killian and Milah had split during Emma’s long absence. She couldn’t say she was sorry, but she did feel sorrow for any heartbreak Killian felt. Nobody deserved heartbreak, especially him.

She then mustered up the courage she needed and began to slowly approach him. She needed to rip off the Band-Aid. It took a moment for him to notice her, but when his eyes met hers, a small grin broke out on his face. “Swan!” he said with what Emma perceived as joy in his voice.

“Killian,” Emma said softly, quickly walking up to him and wrapping her arms around him. He returned her hug in kind, gripping her tightly to his body. It had been so long since she had seen him, and as time went on, she’d started to forget how much she cared for him.

She pressed her face against his chest and murmured, “Oh, I missed you. I missed you so much.” She tightened her grip on him.

“I missed you too, Emma,” Killian said, rubbing circles into her back.

Emma knew she should let him go, knew that he could get the wrong idea from her clinging to him. That was just it, though – somehow, she knew he was just as invested in the hug as she was. She felt like she was well and truly home. It occurred to her that he was continuing to rub soothing circles on her back, so she began to rub his back in return. She wanted him to know how much he meant to her, how relieved she was to see him again, and how sorry she was that she left in the first place.

She thought her feelings for him had diminished, especially after her relationship with Neal, but she felt in her gut that they had never gone away. Instead her feelings for him were intensifying, unfurling like a flower finding sunlight. All she wanted to do was pull back and capture his lips with hers, but she did not know if he was prepared for that kind of attention from her yet, especially after she left so suddenly and unceremoniously. A passionate hug was one thing, but a passionate kiss was another.

“I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Emma pleaded as she finally released Killian from her death grip. She could feel her throat tightening and knew that tears would be imminent if she didn’t somehow distract herself from the guilt that had settled in her gut.

His gaze was not angry, but she thought she could read disappointment in them. Mostly his gaze looked...relieved. It amazed Emma how much older he looked than when she left. He was...twenty now? Or was he twenty-one?

“Calm yourself, lass,” he said, and he smiled. “We should talk in private, but now is not the time. Why don’t you meet me at Granny’s sitting area in an hour?” Emma looked puzzled but agreed. He smiled wider and motioned behind her, explaining, “There are others who wish to see you first.”

Emma looked over her shoulder and saw a small group of people staring at them, brimming with excitement. Mary Margaret, David, Ruby, Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Ashley, and Robin suddenly all had bright smiles on their faces and they rushed to greet her.

Forty-five minutes later, Emma was finally departing from Town Hall to find Killian. It had been wonderful catching up with her friends. She had _missed_ them, and it was apparent that they had missed her, too. Elsa had whispered to her that she’d known that Emma was returning because she had overheard her Aunt Ingrid speaking to Emma on the phone one evening. She hadn’t told Anna because Anna would have told someone else, and eventually that news would have spread through the whole town (likely by Leroy’s mouth). Elsa was good at keeping secrets.

Granny’s was just as she remembered it, this time filled with holiday decors. The sitting area beneath the Inn’s rooms was as homey as ever, amplified by the presence of a real Christmas tree and a roaring fire with stockings hanging on the mantle. Killian was lounging on the couch, facing away from her. She inhaled shakily, feeling extraordinarily nervous. What would he think of her? He had always prattled on about ‘good form’ and being honorable, but she had been anything but honorable her entire time away.

A floorboard creaked where she stepped, making her wince and causing Killian to glance over his shoulder. He smiled gently. “Hello, love.”

“Hi,” she said meekly, moving to sit across from him on a lounge chair.

“Here, I got you this,” Killian said, leaning forward and handing her a to-go cup. Emma knew immediately that it would be her favorite. She took a sip and closed her eyes. Of course he remembered that she liked her hot chocolate with cinnamon.

“Thank you,” Emma said earnestly. She chewed on her lip, trying to decide what to say next. Should she make small talk? Ask what he’d been up to while she was gone? Flat out say what was on her mind? None of them seemed very appealing.  Instead she asked, “How are you?”

He shook his head. “Emma, what happened? Why did you run?”

_Rip off the Band-Aid. Rip off the Band-Aid._

She took a deep breath and replied, “I had to get away. I’m sorry. I had to. Seeing you with Milah and knowing that we were impossible broke my heart.” Emma frowned and continued, “It wasn’t just you though. I was living in a place that made me happy, and had finally found a woman who wanted to adopt me and make me a part of her family. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t know what came over me; it was really immature of me to just run away. I know this now. It was selfish and stupid, and I’m a worse person now than before I left.” She raised her quivering hand to sip from her hot chocolate.

Emma didn’t allow Killian to say anything. “I flew to Oregon, hoping to have a fresh start, but all I found was that I was way too naïve to live on my own. I am a bad person, Killian. I stole. I couldn’t find a steady job so I just took what I needed when I could. And then I met Neal.”

She chanced a glance at Killian. His eyes did not show disgust or anger as she had expected. Instead his eyes were filled with concern. “I get the feeling that Neal wasn’t a good person.”

Emma made a humorless barking laugh. “You’re not wrong. He wasn’t a horrible person. He was really sweet at times, and he never really abused me. He just...” She paused, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know this until it was too late, but he’d stolen some really expensive watches in Arizona before he met me. He tried to frame me for his crime because he was scared of going to prison, but that ended up biting him in the ass and I was able to get him arrested. We were both really good at running away, and I think that was what drew us together.”

“Why did you decide to stop running?” Killian asked. She could tell that he was trying not to say anything else. She could only imagine what he must think of her. He was probably judging Neal pretty hard, too.

Emma gave a sad smile. “Neal told me something on our first date. When you leave a place, you know it’s home because you just miss it. I missed Storybrooke with all of my being. I missed my friends, I missed my...my family. I missed you. When I was in Arizona, just barely escaping jail time, I realized how much I _missed_ being here. And then...” Emma broke off, suddenly unable to speak. Her throat felt like it was closing up again and yep – there were the tears.

Killian jumped up and was kneeling by her in no time. “Emma? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. If she spoke it aloud, it would be true. If she spoke it aloud, everyone would be ashamed of her.

Killian’s thumbs brushed across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “Emma, love, you can talk to me. What is wrong?”

She couldn’t look him in the eye when she admitted, “I...I...I’m pregnant.”


	2. Part Two

It didn’t immediately register in Killian’s mind. Emma was _pregnant_? She was only seventeen. How could she be pregnant? Then he could see the telltale sign that she was about to panic – he hadn’t responded for too long. He’d seen her wear that expression several times in the past.

He took her hand in his, squeezing it to try and get her to focus on him. “Emma. It’s okay. Emma, look at me, okay?” She met his eyes and he knew that she was listening. “Everything will be okay. Do you know what you want to do yet?”

His firm, no-nonsense tone usually helped her avoid panicking. She shook her head and spoke in a wavering voice, “I...don’t. I can’t be a mother, but I don’t want to – to get  _rid_ of it, either.”

He gently rubbed his thumb across the back of the hand still gripping his. “You have time, Emma, and options. You can decide in a little bit. Have you told anyone else?”

“Only you. I’m scared.” Her face twisted and Killian wanted to  _kill_ the bastard who did this. Not because he made her pregnant (it took two, after all), but because he made her face this alone.

Without thinking twice, he brushed his left hand up and down her arm until her tears finally stopped and she stilled. She looked at the hand rubbing her arm and furrowed her brow. Killian froze, realizing that she was looking at his hand.

“Killian...” she said, taking his left hand in hers. His heart started to pound. Now it was time for her to judge him. She looked up and met his eyes, and he could see shock in her gaze. “What happened?” she breathed.

He blinked at her. It occurred to him that she hadn’t said anything before. Had she truly not seen his prosthetic? He stuttered, “You...you didn’t notice before this?”

She shook her head and looked away. “No, I’m sorry. God, I’m so selfish. I was so worried about how you’d react seeing me and finding out about my past and the baby that I didn’t even notice that you’d been hurt.” He could see that she was fighting back more tears.

Killian could feel his own eyes becoming misty. He brushed his fingers over her cheeks and gave her a genuine smile. “Emma, love, you’re the first person not to notice. You  _really_ didn’t notice?”

She shook her head, and Killian couldn’t help it – he placed a kiss on the back of the hand gripping his prosthetic.

Blinking at him, Emma repeated quietly, “What happened? If it’s okay for me to ask, I mean.”

“Of course it’s okay for you to ask,” he said. With a sigh, Killian readjusted so that he was leaning his back against the couch, still on the floor. He stretched his legs out in an attempt to get comfortable. He didn’t want to talk about his time during her absence, but he had to in fairness of Emma. She bared her shame and fears, so it was his turn to do the same. He fiddled with his prosthetic as a distraction and started to talk. 

“As you probably guessed, I lost my hand in the Navy...”

* * *

By the time Killian finished with his story, Emma had joined him on the floor. The loss of his hand in an accident while he had overseas shore duty was only the tip of the iceberg. When she had first met him, Killian’s brother Liam was on overseas sea duty. Killian had always fretted and worried about his brother, who was the only family he had left. Emma’s heart felt hollow when he told her that Liam had died while on duty. That was when she’d slid from her position in the lounge chair to his side on the floor, where she took his hands in hers and gripped them tightly. When they were in high school, Killian had never planned on joining the Navy or any other military service, instead wanting to attend university. That changed after Emma ran away, Milah ended things with him, and his brother died. Joining the Navy was the last way that he could feel close to his brother, could feel wanted and important. (“But now I’ve gone and been discharged because of my injury,” he’d said with tears in his eyes, making Emma wrap her arms around his middle and hug him tightly.) 

“Look at us,” Emma muttered with dark amusement, leaning her head against his shoulder. “We are quite the sad pair.” 

“I’m just glad we’re both home and safe,” Killian finally admitted after a long stretch of silence.

Emma pursed her lips and turned to look at him. “I don’t know about that. What will Ingrid do when she finds out about...about the baby?” Emma swallowed and wiped away a tear that escaped down her cheek. She pulled away from him and stood up to pace.

He followed her lead, finally rising from the floor and stalking over to her, gripping her arm and causing her to stop in her tracks. “You’re going to wear a path into the rug, love. I don’t think Granny will appreciate that.” He winked, but then turned serious. “Emma, I just wanted to let you know that no matter what you decide, you won’t have to face this alone. I will be with you every step of the way, should you want me to be there. Of course, if you want me to sod off, I will,” he said with a sad smile and a shy scratch on the back of his ear. 

She shook her head. She did not deserve this man. Not that he was saying he would be her boyfriend – she didn’t know for sure whether or not he shared the same feelings as Emma felt towards him. His kind and altruistic nature was overwhelming. “Every step, huh?” She finally asked in a weak voice. He nodded, and she could tell he was sincere. “Okay. Let’s go, you can help me break the news to Ingrid.”

* * *

_Thirty-three weeks later_

“Look at his tiny hands,” Emma sniffled, grinning down at her newborn son. She was inspecting every part of him, in awe that she had given birth to such a perfect little human.  His hands were still wrinkled and his hair was still damp. He’d already nursed and was settling down for his first nap in her arms. She couldn’t stop crying - the nearly 27 hours of labor, maternal hormones, and sheer joy of finally holding her baby made her a sobbing mess. An exhausted, sobbing mess.

A nurse stepped into the room to check on them. After determining that they were both doing well, she asked kindly, “Not to interrupt your bonding time, but would you like the father like to hold him for a little bit so that you can rest?”

There was a pause. “I...I’m not the father,” Killian said hesitantly, and for a moment Emma worried that he would be kicked out since visiting hours for non-family members were over.

“Oh, who are we fooling?” Emma asked, a laugh interrupting her renewed crying. “You’re his father in all the ways that matter.” For a moment, Emma worried that she’d said too much, that she’d overstepped Killian’s role in her and her son’s life. They’d become closer than she imagined possible over the remaining seven and a half months of her pregnancy. Their intimacy went beyond the physical (though much to Emma’s delight and relief, it had been physical, too), making them closer than she ever could have dreamed. When tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and he smiled at her like she’d hung the moon and stars, her fears disappeared completely.

“May I?” He asked her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Of course, you idiot,” she giggled. The nurse came over to help transfer the baby to Killian’s arms and then pulled a blue beanie over Henry’s little head. After wiping the tears from her eyes, she could see the worry lining his face over his prosthetic. She knew he could handle it. The look of awe and pure love on his face when Henry settled in his arms was something she would never forget.

She felt a hand take hers and looked to her right to see Ingrid, who must have slipped into the room while they were distracted. “You did good today, sweetie,” she whispered, placing a kiss on Emma’s forehead. Ingrid had taken it surprisingly well when she announced her unplanned pregnancy. Killian being there had really grounded Emma and made her more confident to tell her adoptive mother what had happened while she was away. (“Technically you’re an adult,” Ingrid had said, reminding Emma that she was an emancipated minor. “I won’t yell at you. Instead, I will help you in whatever ways I can. It’s up to you what you do with the baby; whether you want to keep it or give it up for adoption, whatever decision you make I will support.”)

A sudden chuckle made Emma startle awake –  _wait, I fell asleep_ ? She was  _exhausted_ . Napping between contractions had helped her get through the daylong labor, but it only helped sustain her through the birthing part. Now that it was over, she felt more tired than she could ever remember being in her eighteen years of life.

“Only one of us can stay the night, Emma,” Ingrid said gently. “Who would you like to stay with you?”

Emma blinked. That wasn’t very fair to make her decide. She loved them both – why should she have to choose? Emma’s gaze lingered on Killian, who was still holding her son, only now Henry was lying on his stomach against Killian’s chest with a small blanket covering him. She loved him so, so much. Funnily, she wasn’t even sure which  _he_ she was referring to.  _I love them both so, so much_ .

In the end, Ingrid must have noticed the way she was looking at Killian. She patted her shoulder and said, “I’ll be back in the morning. Get some sleep – both of you. I love you.” Another kiss on Emma’s forehead, and Ingrid was out the door.

* * *

_You’re his father in all the ways that matter._ Those nine words kept repeating in his head on a loop. It had been inevitable from the very start that they would be together. The way they bonded during her pregnancy still left him feeling breathless. He couldn’t believe she would choose to be with him. They had never really discussed where they were in their relationship; they fell into place in each other’s lives like they were pieces of a puzzle. 

He hadn’t hesitated about staying for even a moment while Emma was in labor. She’d needed him, so he’d stayed, doing his best to comfort her and encourage her through every groan, moan, and sob. It left no doubt in Killian’s mind that she was much stronger than he would ever be.

After Ingrid left for the evening, Emma turned to look at him and gave him a gentle smile. “We should sleep before he cries for his next feeding. Let’s put him in his bed,” she said, sitting up with a grimace. He gently handed Henry over to Emma so that he could wheel the infant bed directly beside Emma. Together they placed the tiny baby on the bed to allow him to sleep.

“Would you...would you lay with me?” Emma asked hesitantly. Killian walked around to the opposite side of the bed, settling beside her and shifting so that she could lean against his chest. She gave a deep sigh and was asleep within minutes.

She had only just turned eighteen, but her braided pigtails from her labor made her look younger than ever. At the same time, she looked older than he’d ever seen her. He knew she still had doubts and fears about raising Henry. Now she was a mother, and he knew that she would be a damn good one.

And, he supposed, he was now a father. He prayed that he would not fail his new family. No. He _vowed_ that he would not fail them. 

* * *

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One! _Happy New Year!_ ”

 Emma and Killian leaned into a kiss.

 “Happy New Year, love,” Killian murmured against her lips. She smiled, nuzzling her nose against his.

“Guys, get a room!” Ruby yelled from behind them. 

Emma gave her a look and then laughed. “Ruby, you’re in _our_ house. We can kiss wherever we want under our own roof. Also, stop yelling, you’re going to wake Henry.”

As if on cue, a wailing came from the bedroom. Emma sighed and Ruby grimaced. “Sorry,” Ruby said guiltily. “Too much champagne?” She offered, holding up her empty glass.

Killian moved as if to check on Henry, but Emma gripped his arm. “I’ve got it,” she said with a small smile. She jogged down the hall to the master bedroom, walking over to Henry’s bed beside hers. He was still crying, though less loudly now, and stilled when he saw his mother.

She picked him up, rocking him back and forth. “Sorry to wake you, little guy,” Emma said. He looked at her with his baby blue eyes (she wondered whose eye color he would get, secretly praying that they would turn green instead of brown). Suddenly his mouth formed a gummy smile and she giggled. “Happy New Year, my love,” she said, continuing to sway him back and forth. She briefly looked up to see Killian leaning against the doorway, a gentle, happy smile on his face.

“Keep smiling, boys,” Emma said with a small smile of her own. “I think this is going to be a banner year.” 

Killian walked over to her and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. With his forehead against hers and their hands resting on Henry, Killian replied, “I couldn’t agree more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> If you are so inclined, you can find me on tumblr as korrasamie. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I will post chapter 2 tomorrow!


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